


Sneezed on the beet'

by IllusiveBirds



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Puns, Bananas, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, P - Freeform, Swearing, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllusiveBirds/pseuds/IllusiveBirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You and your clique sit across the cafeteria during lunchtimes and I sometimes catch you staring at me, more often on days when they sell bananas.” AU</p>
<p>In which Bucky can't control his eyeballs and Steve is the hot shit he's staring at.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sneezed on the beet'

**Author's Note:**

> So this took many months to write and i'm still not sure about it but oh well. I hate cheesy rom-coms so i tried to keep this as far from it as possible but i probably failed. Also i am British and so have no idea what American parties are like nor what American schools are like so i apologies for that but it's not really my fault.  
> There is references to underage, possibly irresponsible drinking so if you don't like that then don't read as well as innuendos (but seriously it's about a banana what do you expect) and heavy swearing.  
> Title from Beyonce - Yonce and un-beta'd because of reasons.  
> Otherwise enjoy! (Hopefully)

**Sneezed on the beet’**

_“You and your clique sit across the cafeteria during lunchtimes and I sometimes catch you staring at me, more often on days when they sell bananas.” AU_

* * *

 

“It’s happening again.”

“What is?”

“He’s staring at me.”

“No. No, I think it’s your banana.”

“No, it’s definitely me.”

Sam turns around to face Steve and glares at him.  “I think it’s because you’re putting that phallic shaped piece of fruit oh-so-slowly into your mouth and Barnes is getting a hard on because of it.”

“Ugh, gross Sam.” Dropping the banana down onto his tray as though it had burned him, Steve screwed up his face in disgust. “Do you want me to puke all over you?”

Sam smugly arched an eyebrow.  “This coming from the guy who snogged him at Tony’s end of year party.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Steve sputtered feeling his face flush. “And we did not _snog_. It was an innocent kiss.”

“Pfft, if that was innocent I must have got Sharon pregnant over the weekend.” Sam said, piercing a straw into his cartoon of juice.

“Seriously.” Steve deadpanned at him, face expressionless.

“Please, I saw him shove his tongue down your throat and you _clearly_ enjoyed it.” Sam sucked snootily on his straw, staring Steve down, daring him to say something.

“I’m never playing spin the bottle ever again.” Steve groaned and slumped against the table.

The cafeteria was crowded enough that from this angle the far end of the room was hidden from view, but Steve knew who was sitting over there anyway. Bucky Barnes, who he’d, yes, kissed at a party, under the influence of a beer or two and a game of spin the bottle.

However, that was before summer had started and Steve had had the break to reminisce, dream and then forget about the most amazing kiss he had ever had - he didn’t have much to compare it too but still – ready for his junior year of High school. But then two weeks into the first term, something had started happening.

One lunchtime, Steve was sitting at his usual table, listening to Sam and Tony arguing about the new Transformers film (it was crap Steve had seen it) when, as he chowed down on a banana, he’d felt the skin at the back of his neck start to prickle.

Frowning, he’d looked up and around him, saw nothing and brushed it off as some weird paranoia from his iron medicine. But then it had happened the next day, and then the next until a week later, on a whim he’d glanced towards the corner of the room where a certain dark-haired beauty sat and met eyes with none other than Bucky Barnes.

From then on he tried to ignore it – not that easy when you may or may not have a teeny tiny crush on the guy - until Sam had noticed how shifty and awkward Steve was acting at lunch and asked him what was wrong.

So Steve had spilled the metaphorical beans: every lunchtime, more so on days when Steve decides to be healthy and have a banana instead of a chocolate cookie, Bucky Barnes makes eyes at him from across the room.

Occasionally they make awkward eye contact have to look away, pretending the exchange had never happened - apart from that one occasion when Natasha Romanov had stared him down instead and he’d had to start an abrupt conversation about carbon footprints, of all things, with Sam so she would look away.

Sam and Tony were constantly coming up with weird theories about why it was happening. Among the most likely were: he was an alien waiting to take Steve home to their mother planet, he was psychic _or_ he had a massive, elephant in the room sized boner for all things Steve Rogers.

The last was their personal favourite. Steve thought the first was more believable.

 “He wants to get in your pants, Steve.” Sam said, distracting him from his thoughts.

“Everyone wants to get into Steve’s pants.” Tony Stark stopped Steve from replying as he thumped his tray down onto the table and equally as forcefully, collapsed into the chair beside Steve.

Sam nodded his head solemnly as Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s true; we’re just batting away the masses vying for your attention.”

“But there is one who we’ll allow through.” Tony said through a mouth-full of cheese melt. “Drum roll please.”

Sam obligingly slapped his hands against the table in a poor excuse of a drum beat. Tony swallowed his mouthful, took a sip of water, swallowed that and said, “And the winner is….Bucky Barnes.”

Sam and Tony mimed cheering and Steve groaned loudly, putting his head in his hands. “You guys are the worst.”

“I disagree.” Tony said self-assuredly.

Head shooting up angrily Steve hissed. “Yes you are, so we kissed. Nothing else happened or will ever happen. We don’t know he’s not just looking out the window.”

Sam and Tony stared blankly at him, faces un-believing. When they spoke they did so simultaneously.

“Bullshit.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Go on.” He said sitting back and crossing his arms.

“I have it on astounding authority that Barnes has developed a little fascination with a certain blonde haired artist, who just so happens to be sitting beside me.” Tony said coyly, twirling a straw in his fingers.

“Is that authority Christine Everhart?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, it might have been.” Tony mumbled under his breathe.

 “But that does not discredit the validity of the statement.” Tony protested as Steve laughed triumphantly at him whilst Sam scoffed and threw his hands into the air in defeat.

“Christine Everhart has never spread an accurate rumour in three years.” Steve said.

“Uh, I resent that, she is a wonderful young lady and is interested in a fruitful career in journalism. You can’t blame her for looking for a story.” Tony protested, finger pointing at both of them.

“You’re only saying that because she gave you a blow job in your bathroom last year.” Sam said blankly, causing Steve to bark out a laugh.

Tony opened his to say something but stopped as though he thought better of it. Instead he turned to face Steve a serious expression coming onto his face.

“Look, just because Christine, though very intelligent, cannot tell the difference between true or false does not mean that in this situation she is wrong.” Steve huffed a laugh and looked at the table awkwardly, fiddling with the frame of his glasses.

Ignoring him Tony continued on, voice soft. “You were too drunk to see his face after you guys exchanged saliva and he was as smitten as you were. The sober man knows.” When Steve looked up at him, Tony tapped a finger to the side of his nose and winked.

“I mean why wouldn’t he be? I’ve been on the receiving end of your kisses and I’m a little gayer for it.” Sam smiled broadly at him.

In response Steve kicked him, hard, and revelled in the yelp that followed.  “That was New Years and I’d had a lot to drink.” Steve shot back, pouting as Sam and Tony laughed at him.

“Yeah, and I was pleasantly surprised you retained so much muscle function.” Sam said patting his head patronisingly  

“Shut up.” Steve said with little heat and dodged his hand. As he did so, Tony grabbed his face and began pulling it towards himself.

“Let me see if you’re as good as they say you are.” He said, ignoring Steve’s disgusted expression.

“Tony… get… off me. Steve said, struggling to get Tony off him. “What would Pepper think?”

Tony made a kissy face at him in reply, but relinquished him anyway, smoothing down his rumpled shirt.

“I’ll find out soon enough.” He winked.

“What the hell?” Sharon said from behind Sam, her hands on his shoulders, staring bemusedly at Steve and Tony.

“I’m trying to see if Stevie here is as good a smooch as they say.” Tony said smiling obnoxiously.

Sharon, the picture of sophistication in her blouse and high-waisted jeans, snorted.

“Okay, the only reason I came over here was because I needed to speak to Sam, but now I wanna know who’s been kissing Stevie.” She said, reaching over Sam’s shoulder to grab a carrot stick off his plate and sitting in the empty chair next to her boyfriend.

“No one.” Steve said firmly, feeling his neck turning red.

“Really? Because I heard you’ve lip-locked with a certain dark-haired football player and left quite the impression.” She said, leaning forward and winking at him.

Tony gasped. “Rumlow?”

 Steve choked on air and Sam dropped his cartoon of juice.

“No!” Sharon’s face screwed up in disgust. “Bucky.”

“Oh thank god!” Tony said clutching his chest.

“Wait, so Bucky has a little,” Sam paused to wiggle his fingers in Steve’s direction. “ ’Thing’ for Steve?”

Sharon hummed her affirmation, scrutinising another carrot stick before eating it.

“I knew it!” Sam said, punching the air and reaching over to high-five Tony.

“Where’d you hear that?!” Steve managed to splutter out over the sounds of his rejoicing friends, face burning red.

Sharon gave him a sympathetic smile. “Oh Steve, it’s kind of obvious he’s been mooning over you for ages.”

“It is?” Steve asked, shocked that anyone else had noticed the ‘lunchtime stare’.

“Yeah, Maria said she sits next to him in English and he does _not_ stop staring at the back your head.”

Steve gulped. “Oh.”

“So, you talked to him since the party?” Sharon asked quietly, face open and kind.

 Glancing nervously over towards his friends who had somehow managed to get engrossed into an argument on who would win in a fight: Batman or superman (Superman obviously).

“No.” Steve laughed slightly and shook his head. “No, kind of… haven’t really had the opportunity.”

“Or the confidence?” Sharon asked knowingly.

When he nodded, she smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, it’ll happen.”

With that she got up kissed Sam on the cheek with an “I’ll text you” and waved before walking back towards her group of friends.

“Listen, Steve will back me up. Batman would totally win.” Tony said slapping Steve gently on the chest.

Sam rolled his eyes and gave Tony a look, showing exactly what he thought about that.

“C’mon, seriously?!”

* * *

 

Steve liked running. Sure sometimes his lungs stopped working and tried to kill him, but he found comfort in the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the ground. Sam, however, did not.

“I’m gonna die. I can’t.” He panted and gasped a few steps behind Steve, less running and more swinging his limbs around in an attempt to keep moving.

Steve ignored him and tried to figure out if it was him or Sam wheezing.

“Steve.”

It might be him. He took a deep breath.

“I can’t.”

He couldn’t hear a wheeze.

“Huuuhgh”

Definitely Sam.

“Steve.” Sam sobbed and Steve glanced back at his friend, un-surprised to see him dripping in sweat, face contorted in agony.

From across the track Steve could see Coach Philips shouting forcefully, as people staggered past him. This was Steve’s last year of Gym with the drill sergeant of a Coach and he wanted to at least get a B- in the class seeing as this year it was actually realistic, due to his asthma starting to ease off.

In comparison, Sam did not give a flying monkey’s about his grade in this class, even though he had been playing baseball for three years. He had complained as they were walking to the changing rooms; whined as they were getting changed and then moaned as they lined up, ready to start the countless number of laps they were required to do that lesson.

To be honest Steve was a little too cold to be dealing with this shit seeing as it was late September, but  especially because in his class was the one, the only, Bucky Barnes.

Yep, he not only had to wear the hideous blue shorts and yellow t-shirt combo of their school colours, but watch as his knees slowly turned as blue as the shorts he was wearing as Bucky, ever the athlete, jogged past him gracefully.

Today was just not his lucky day.

He hadn’t seen him go past yet but Steve was preparing himself for when it did happen, because Bucky Barnes walking was one thing, running was another.

Next, to him Sam sputtered to a halt. “I need a break.” He gasped hands on his knees.

Steve stopped as well and stood beside him hands on his hips, trying to control his breaths.

“You play baseball Sam.” He said after a pause, letting disapproval seep into his every word.

“As a pitcher.” Sam spat back aggressively.

Steve rolled his eyes and pushed his hair back off his forehead. “C’mon, I know you’re better than this, let’s go.”

Reluctantly, Sam set off again beside Steve, albeit more co-ordinated than before. “Gosh, Steve.  You give. The _best._ Motivational speeches.” Sam gasped, his every word dripping with sarcasm.

“I know.” Steve said resignedly and sighed. “It a curse.”

“What’s a curse. Is that we’re forced to run around a track. For an hour each day. Whilst Philips sits on his ass. And watches.” Sam chokes out. “I saw him eat. Two snickers bars.  The other day. _Two.”_

Steve squinted at the figure of Coach Philips coming nearer as he sat in a deck chair and said deadpan, “well they are _nut_ ritious.” 

Sam snorted so hard he almost fell over.

Straight-faced Steve innocently looked at his friend before saying, “It’s _nut_ that funny, Sam.”

Sam burst out laughing and had to stop with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

 Steve smiled widely at his friend shaking his head.

“C’mon Sam, we gotta’ move otherwise Coach will think we’re rais _on_ hell.”

The only response he got was a bark of laughter.

Before Steve could carry on however he heard footsteps coming up fast behind him.

“You’ve got to be Kitten me.” He said, struggling not to laugh as Sam choked and almost fell over again.

Regardless of his friend’s state, Steve somehow managed to move them to the side of the track and so he had a prime view of the footballers as they ran past him. Namely one dark-haired footballer.

Steve’s not  ashamed to admit that he did a little bit of ogling as Bucky ran past, just a teeny little bit. But I mean come on he’s only human and Bucky fills out the t-shirt like nobody’s business.  He runs past, a hint of sweat glistening on his forehead, dark hair coiffed up effortlessly, tanned arms moving effortlessly through the air and those thighs, _damn_.

Steve’s mouth goes dry and he pushes his glasses up further his nose, making a strained squeak.

“Meeow.” Sam says quietly, smirking at Steve.

“Piss off.” Steve mumbles and ducks his head until the rest of the team pass them.

“I’m just saying, he cute.”

“Shut _up_ ”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing _him_ do some stretches, if you know what I mean.”  Sam waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously and runs off, managing to avoid Steve’s attempt to whack his arm.

“You’re the worst friend _ever_!” Steve shouts after him, before jogging after his friend.

* * *

 

“Why am I here?” Steve says frowning up at the house before him. He can hear the music blaring out from the back of the house and he tugs nervously at the blue shirt he’s wearing.

It’s the weekend and him, Sam and Tony are standing outside Natasha Romanov’s house about to go in for her birthday party. And Steve’s nervous.

He reasons it’s because it’s been a while since he’s been to a party… and had alcohol, but he knows the real reason.

Bucky’s gonna be there. Like… definitely going to be there. He overheard him talking about it with Natasha the day before ,as he waited a few people behind them in the lunch queue and now he’s here; wearing contacts instead of his thick frames and a blue shirt because Sharon told him it brings out his eyes.

He’s fucking bricking it.

“Come on Steve-o, let’s go.” Tony says slapping a hand on his shoulder.

Steve makes a strained noise but follows anyway wondering if his jeans were too tight, I mean they made his ass look _great_ but what if he had to pee?

“I think I should go get changed-ack” Steve said turning to leave, but was instead yanked back by Tony’s hand, gripping the collar of his leather jacket.

“Nope, you’re all dressed up to impress, so you’re gonna go in there and _woo_ the pants of Barnes, okay?” Tony said knocking on the white door of Natasha’s house and shoving Steve forward, so he was standing in front of both him and Sam.

The door opened almost immediately and all of a sudden Steve was staring into the blue, blue eyes of….

“Hey Steve.” Bucky said, smiling almost shyly at him and Steve felt his brain turn into mush almost instantly because he looks really good. Like _seriously_ good.

Bucky’s hair was already a dark mess of flicks and curls but he was still wearing a denim jacket over his white t-shirt and it gives Steve an eyeful of his tanned chest and makes him swallow hard when he sees it.

“Hey Bucky.” Sam says when it became apparent that Steve had lost the ability to speak and Tony followed suit. Steve made a sound that could be considered a greeting if his eyes weren’t directed towards the V in Bucky’s shirt.  Although, to be fair Bucky himself doesn’t notice as his eyes were squared firmly onto the swell of Steve’s bottom lip, a fact which Steve notices when he finally lifts his eyes back up to meet Bucky’s and finds them otherwise engaged.

And then suddenly Steve has a surge of confidence (which has nothing to do with the vodka shot he took in Tony’s car on the way there, absolutely nothing) and realises that Bucky _fucking_ Barnes wants Steve.

He wants little, skinny Steve Rogers who still can’t run a hundred metres without taking a puff of his inhaler. Oh yeah, Steve is the hot shit and he’s got an ass to match.

With that thought Steve smirks up at Bucky, and pushes past him, chest against motherfucking chest, through the doorway with nothing more than a “hey” and saunters through into the house, hips swaying slightly.

“Shit.” He hears Tony say. “Steve got moves.”

You’re damn fucking right.

Thirty minutes later and Steve has danced with no less than three people, (okay it may have been Sharon, her cousin Peggy and Maria Hill, but still) and almost finished a bottle of cider whilst casually avoiding Bucky _whilst_ simultaneously trying to catch his attention.

So far he’s had marginal success as the last time he’d seen Bucky, was when he had been engaged in a fierce beer pong battle with Clint Barton and evidently should not be disturbed. 

Now he’s nowhere to be found and Steve is dancing with Peggy, spinning her around and laughing as she giggles and Bucky is most definitely _not_ watching his dancing skills. 

“I need a drink.” Peggy says, struggling to catch her breath as she giggles, “and then I’m gonna find Angie.” She says, speaking about her long-time girlfriend as she brushes her hair off her face. “You want anything?”

Steve shakes his head and they part ways, she going further inside whilst Steve leaves towards the backdoor hoping to find Sam or Tony or perhaps just some fresh air.

Instead he runs into Natasha as she is about to go back inside and smiles, before gesturing for her to go through first but she puts a hand on his arm. “You spoke to James yet?” she asks.

Steve in his inebriated state, frowns confused at her.

“Bucky.” She says clarifying and the expression on her face, fondly annoyed, makes his cheeks burn because obviously it isn’t the mention of Bucky’s name… _obviously._

“Um…. No?” He says, but it comes out more like a question than a statement and Natasha sighs, rolling her heavily made-up eyes.

“Go talk to him before the party ends. I cannot sit through another one of his pinning sessions.” She says and Steve stares at her blankly, mind switching from thinking about Bucky to Christmas trees.

“Steve.” Natasha said, hands on her hips. “Talk to Bucky.”

Steve nodded his head eyes wide because holy shit Natasha was scary.

“Ugh, you two are made for each other.” She says before stalking away into her house.

Steve makes the smart decision that he has not had nearly enough alcohol to have a conversation with Bucky and so make his way over to the drinks table and picks up another bottle of cider and everything is fine apart from the fact that he can’t find a bottle opener, of all things at a party, he can’t find the bottle opener.

But then suddenly it’s being waved in his face and a voice is saying, “Looking for this?” And Bucky is by his side, smiling and wow he’s so pretty.

Steve coughs, runs is hand through is hair in an attempt to look casual and takes the bottle opener, poping the cap of the bottle and taking a long drink.

He sees Bucky looking as he does so and smiles. Oh yeah, who da man?

“You wanna go outside?” Bucky tips his head towards the door and looks so hopeful that Steve nods his head and follows him through the crowd.

The manage to find a bench beside the house which is unoccupied at out of the way of the many couples making out around them, and sit almost  awkwardly far apart.

“So did you win the beer pong match?” Steve asks after they sit in silence for a minute or two.

“Oh.” Bucky looks almost surprised at the question but recovers quickly and gives him a crooked smile that makes Steve’s skin break out into goose bumps. “Yeah, no. I should’ve known not to face an archer at a game where hand eye coordination is kinda important.”

 “Ah well maybe challenge someone else next time, perhaps Wade.” Steve says, gesturing to the widely gesticulating figure in the window, dancing to some Calvin Harris track.

Bucky peers over Steve’s shoulder and frowns, “I think he’s gonna knock someone out soon.”

“Unsurprising really, he punched Thor last time.” Steve half chuckles but then frowns. “Although, I think Thor ended up _thanking_ him instead so, it might be more fun than it looks.”

Bucky snorts and takes a sip of his own drink, “Not really my idea of a good time. A swift kick to the balls might be more enjoyable.”

Steve gasps, “You read my mind.” He smiles up at Bucky and watches as Bucky tips back his head and laughs, follows the line of his jaw, throat, entranced.

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts out and winces as Bucky turns to face him more fully on the bench, a slight smile on his face.

“Ok.” Steve takes a deep breath and fiddles with a loose piece of thread on his jeans. “Well the thing is I’ve noticed, well I mean a few people have, it’s just that somethings been happening and I just wanted to clear things up, you know clear the air and all…”

Steve looks up at Bucky who raises his eyebrow waiting for Steve to finish and dear God is that hot and Steve can’t seem to stop himself from saying, “Why have you been staring at me during lunch?”

_Fuck fuck shit shit fuck,_ Steve thinks and mentally vows to never drink alcohol again _._

“Uh…” Bucky says, cheeks flushed as he stares mouth slightly agape and eyes wide, at Steve.

And Steve, well… Steve panics.

“I mean, I’m not saying you’re obviously staring at me, that’s just what Sam and Tony have been saying, you could easily have been staring at the window, unsurprisingly seeing as it is a very nice win-mmph.”

Bucky’s kissing him.

Bucky- _freaking-_ Barnes is kissing him and it’s just as good as the first time but also _so_ much better. They kiss open mouthed and slow, almost painfully slow; Bucky’s hands on the collar of Steve’s jacket from where he’s pulled Steve towards himand Steve’s hands are automatically traveling up into Bucky’s hair and oh… It feels _so good._

 When Bucky pulls back he lingers on Steve’s lower lip, blue eyes dark and heady as they stare into Steve’s. He looks almost wrecked, hair messy, cheeks flushed, lips slick and Steve’s pretty sure he looks the same but he doesn’t care because Bucky’s nose is brushing past his and over his cheek; breath warm on Steve’s neck, sending shivers down his spine as he says, “It’s you, It’s you.”

His voice Is deep and broken even more so when he hovers his lips over the sensitive patch of skin under Steve’s ear and whispers, “You don’t know what you do to me when you sit there every fucking lunchtime all but fellating a fucking banana. You drive me crazy.”

And then he nibbles and licks his way down and then up Steve’s neck, reclaiming his lips once more in a burning kiss and Steve feels as though he’s died and gone to heaven.

They stay there for a while, just kissing on the bench until Steve has to push Bucky away to take a breath and looks over towards him, straightening his now rumpled shirt.

 “We should probably talk about this.” Steve says trying to think clearly which is kind of difficult when Bucky licks his swollen lips and keeps staring at Steve.

Steve holds on for a few seconds before he’s saying, “fuck it.” He climbs onto Bucky’s lap so that he’s straddling him, hands fisting at the collar of his denim jacket and whines when he feels Bucky’s hands grip his ass tight as he licks is way into his mouth.

Steve feels as though he’s on fire, all his senses burning filling up with _Bucky Bucky Bucky_ and he doesn’t thinks he’s ever been this turned on before and he’s considering recommending they move somewhere more _private_ when he hears the worst thing ever.

“Ew, Bucky I think you’ve got a Steve stuck to you.” Tony says, leaning against a tree next to the bench.

Steve groans entirely un-sexily and curses Tony’s ability to have the worst timing.

“What?!” He hisses glaring at him.

Tony rolls his eyes and pushes off the tree. “Clint’s about to bring out the cake and the birthday girls requires your immediate presence.” He says to Bucky whose head tips back as he murmurs a curse.

“And, uh… I really don’t think anyone needs to see you two dry humping on a bench, no matter how much sexual tension you guys have been giving off the past year.” Tony squints at them, shakes his head and walks off back into the house, heaving an exasperated sigh.

“Nat will literally kill me if I’m not there to see her blow out her candles.” Bucky says and Steve immediately jumps up looking down at the floor as he subtly tries to adjust his trousers.

And then his heart is jumping in his throat because Bucky is reaching over and linking his fingers with Steve’s and it’s so simple, so effortless that his chest hurts a little or that may be the small smile on Bucky’s face and jeez when did he become a sap (about four vodka shots ago but who’s counting?)

When they walk into the house, they are not greeted by clapping or cheering – because this isn’t some cheesy rom-com ok? - Only the sight of a massive chocolate cake being carried out and the bright smile on Natasha’s face as Clint touches his hand to her shoulder. And it’s kind of perfect.

(He does not think this when he wakes up in the morning with over thirty messages on his phone and a jack knife thrumming into his skull but oh well).

That Monday thinks are almost unchanged. Steve still hits snooze on his alarm at least three times and he forgets to back his maths textbook and only remember s as he’s about to run out the door. But when he gets to his locker, Bucky is leaning against it a small smile at the corner of his mouth, and when they walk to English together they link their fingers together and suddenly Monday morning doesn’t seem so bad.

(When he chooses a banana at lunch that day, he flashes a smirk at Bucky and doesn’t stop even when Bucky swaps it for an apple with a pained sigh. But apples can be sexy, right?)


End file.
